


We Were Alive

by sheinaxx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8545858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheinaxx/pseuds/sheinaxx
Summary: No one misunderstands Lance more than himself, a boy who thinks too much and feels too much.No one listens to or wants to hear from Keith, a hard-shelled teenager who's had a rough past and feels nothing at all.They find each other first as a coincidence, then as people who don't know what they need or where to really find it but felt a connection in the hallway of their dorm.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened they were both extremely exhausted. Lance had just come back from a ten-mile run, looking for a place to crash that was closer to walk to than his own dorm room, his legs were killing him. He called his best friend, Hunk, to tell him he was coming over, and so he went with wobbly legs. Hunk, on the other hand, was tired from building his model robot for his science class and spending nearly two hours fixing just a few inches of wire that were giving him a headache. He said "yeah, sure" when Lance called him, and all of a sudden when they were both laying on Hunk's bed, talking about their day, Lance asked:

"Can I hug you?"

Hunk was too tired to be taken aback, albeit he was still quite surprised. "Hug me?" he returned Lance's question, chuckling slightly, "sure, buddy." And immediately Lance latched on like a sloth, literally spooning Hunk in a weirdly intimate way that made him wonder whether Lance was high or drunk on something. It wasn't completely impossible - who really knows how Lance prepares for those insane runs? It was already close to midnight, they had both been awake since around six that day and, unsurprisingly, they fell asleep like that before Hunk could even ask about it.

When he woke up, Lance had left and there was a note on his kitchen table saying "I'm sorry for that. See you in English."

It happened again the next day after a panic attack, and Hunk was a little more understanding that time.

In a lot of ways, the deep need Lance had for affection was quite bothersome and irritating. To him, it felt like a burden he had to carry around everywhere, a useless sack of cravings that sometimes turned into more awkward but purely platonic advances towards Hunk, and it happened at least every few days.

God, the pain in Lance's chest was almost overbearing at times like these, where the world seemed to just have it out for him and he needed the physical contact, it was too much and Lance was ashamed. He didn't know why he was like this or why it was so hard for him to let go of Hunk and stare at the ground for a minute or so before moving on. It was a weird trait, a quirk if you must, and Lance was so goddamn ashamed. Of course, he never said anything about it, because he didn't want to talk about it. There was nothing to even talk about - they just hugged for ten minutes every few days or so, that was it. Nothing less, nothing more. It was just something that had established itself in Lance a while back, something that wasn't going to go away soon, and Lance didn't know what it was or why it was there.

He was feeling it right now, arms tied around his best friend, head buried into his neck, body relaxing into the embrace. It was calm and peaceful, and it made Lance forget about everything. He loved that feeling. They were in the common room, right next to the door to the cafeteria, meaning that anyone could walk in on them at any moment, but Lance didn't really care. He had almost done something bad earlier today, he needed to get away, and this was helping.

"You know, you could get someone else to do this with really easily," Hunk would say each time, and Lance would only nod, thinking about the empty list of people he would even consider doing this with which excluded Hunk, and he would apologize, and that would be it. But this time Hunk said it differently.

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Lance." He tried to pry Lance off of him, sighing deeply and shaking his head as Lance only clung onto him tighter. "Let go, Lance. Please." I knew it, Lance thought, he never liked this. He never liked doing this - so why did he continue? Why would he do that? The feeling of Hunk's body warmth vanished and Lance felt isolated again, truly alone and vulnerable, and it wasn't even two seconds before he felt the tears rise to his eyes. He couldn't even bring himself to say an apology.

"Listen," Hunk put a hand on Lance's shoulder, "we can't keep doing this anymore." Lance was shaking now, and he suddenly felt exhausted, like all of his energy had been sucked out of him in a quick instant. "I know you're lonely, Lance. I know you. It's - it's just too weird. We've been doing this for almost a month now and it's weird. Do you get what I'm saying?" Hunk looked for answers from Lance's eyes, but there was nothing there but panic and hurt. He quickly let go of Lance's shoulder and tried desperately to find something comforting to say, but it was already too late for that.

Lance hadn't even realized it had been so long since they started doing this. It only felt like a week at most - it hadn't really changed their friendship, at least to Lance, it was just something that they did then forgot about. There were no real rules or even boundaries as to where or when they would do it, it would just happen when Lance was feeling more sad than usual. This was the first time Hunk ever protested against it.

"I'm sorry," Lance squeaked out and took a few steps back. He opened his mouth to say something more, but Hunk beat him to it. "Please don't be sad about this too, Lance," he said, "but I just don't think this is right. People might think we're... you know. Not that there's anything wrong with being like that, I just don't want our friends to get the wrong idea." Lance understood, but he didn't know why it took Hunk so long for him to explain this to him. He felt betrayed. Was Hunk just doing this out of pity? Lance didn't need pity.  
"I'm sorry," Lance repeated, turning away. He took a deep breath before heading towards the door to the dorm rooms, he had to get back to his room, where he would be safe. He needed some exercise anyway.

As he ran along the hallways of his dorm, he felt the floor underneath him quiver and jolt, but he knew he was just imagining it, or maybe he wasn't. He was never really sure, especially not now when he was feeling many unfamiliar yet bittersweet, welcoming things that were making him feel sick - he was crumbling again, all because of his stupid feelings and needs and emotions. It was all so stupid, so unnecessary - Lance hated all of it. Why was he like this? Why was he so stupid, so unnecessary - why did he hate himself?

An announcement rang out into the halls from the speakers, talking about something Lance was sure he wouldn't care about, so he didn't listen. He just ran, not looking back, he had to get back fast or he was going to be in big trouble once he got there. He could picture the scene in his head already: tears all over his face, a broken mirror, a dirty bathroom floor. It was all too much - maybe he was already too late.

Suddenly, he heard a noise over the announcement. Someone calling his name. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but he slowed down and turned his head to look behind him just in case - and he wasn't. It was Pidge, the short but talented kid from his art class that was holding Lance's phone in their hands, but that's not what Lance was paying attention to.

"Lance! Dude, you dropped this!" Pidge was coming closer now, and next to them walked the most beautiful thing Lance had ever seen. A dark-haired god, Lance decided as he froze completely just from the sight of him. It felt unreal.

"Here," Pidge said, handing over Lance's phone with a smile. It took all of Lance's will power to not stare at whoever was next to them, a stranger who, in Lance's mind, just cured every bit of anxiety he had been experiencing just moments earlier. Unreal. "Thanks," Lance whispered, not managing to gather himself enough to speak up properly. Too late he realized, however, that his face was still covered in tears and his face flushed with a deep red that was sure to become a regular occurrence if he were to ever see the man before him ever again - so Lance did what he did best, he apologized silently and ran away.

When he got to his room, the image of Pidge's, what, friend? Acquaintance? It would not leave his mind. He watched TV for a while, but all he could think about was him. When his roommate came in and shouted hello, Lance didn't answer because he was too busy stalking every account Pidge had on social media to find their friend. After thirty minutes, he had to accept the fact that he had found absolutely no trace of this angel of a man, and he was getting too tired to continue looking anyway. He fell asleep less than a minute after laying down on his bed.

Lance was not expecting to have a dream about him, though.

A dream where they were hugging and rubbing each other's backs silently, no words needed, just a sweet shared moment. He woke up crying some hours later and couldn't go back to sleep. He made some tea and texted Hunk:

"im sorry. lets talk tomorrow?"

He spent the rest of the early morning writing out his dietary plan for the following weeks and searching for new routes to run. He was already feeling the familiar aching in his chest, he wanted it to go away but it didn't. He made his roommate morning coffee with the saddest fake smile in the world at 7AM and cried for a few minutes during his morning shower. Just another day, he thought, even though he knew it wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first VLD fic ever, hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hunk was already waiting for him in their usual spot at the cafeteria when Lance walked in.

The hall was quite empty with only a few students sitting many tables across from Hunk, munching away at their morning apples and store-bought cereal. Hunk, on the other hand, had no food in front of him whatsoever. Maybe he already ate, Lance thought as he walked over, but he didn't dare ask. In fact, he didn't dare say anything when he sat down. He felt anxious, intimidated even, because the way Hunk was staring at him was something completely new and out of the ordinary, and Lance was not sure what it meant.

"I'm not mad at you."

A line that was all too familiar to Lance came out of Hunk's mouth, and they both sighed in unison.

"I just had to get it out there, you know?" Hunk continued, still looking Lance in the eyes. The latter kept staring into his lap, pulling his sleeves over his hands nervously. "And I'm sorry for just, throwing it at you. I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry."

Lance lifted his gaze for a moment before turning it towards the wall behind Hunk. He was right. He had to get it out there, and Lance understood that. He understood and agreed, which meant that there was no need for arguing about it. They wouldn't argue.

"I'm sorry, too," Lance said, just in case, and nodded slightly, "I was making you uncomfortable." He was. He shouldn't have done what he did. It was too late to realize it only now, and he was so sorry. Lance wanted to say more, explain more, but he couldn't. Instead, he held out his arms on the table and waited. Hunk shook his head.

"Hey, you don't need to do that," he said and pushed Lance's arms back softly in protest. "We stopped doing that, remember? We stopped checking." Lance swallowed.

"But I want you to," he uttered, offering his arms again, "look." This caught Hunk off guard, because Lance had never asked him to check. It was something he would always have to slowly pry out of Lance, or whatever shell was left of him then. He looked up and down between his best friend's arms and his eyes before hushing out "okay, alright" and scooting in closer.

Hunk hesitated for a second before moving to pull up Lance's right sleeve. The arm revealed was mostly blank, with only a few old marks here and there that Hunk remembers the origins of. Accidents, one of them being from quite a dangerous bike trip to the supermarket back when they were younger. Of course, they had wanted to race, and Lance fell, leaving quite the gash on the outside of his right arm. They went to Hunk's straight after and his mother bandaged it up like it was no problem, giving Lance a kiss on the forehead on his way out. At home, Lance was met with the horror that was his intoxicated mother who yelled at him for hours. Lance only told his to Hunk a few years later.

Before pulling up Lance's left sleeve, Hunk looked around them to make sure no one was watching or even in their line of sight, and when he pulled back the fabric of Lance's sleeve he was quite speechless. There were no signs of any fresh wounds. Only old scars, dozens of them, but that's not what Hunk was paying attention to. It was the fact that even after the encounter they had had yesterday, Lance had not self-harmed. And it seemed like Lance had not self-harmed at all in the past few weeks, either.

"Lance..."

Hunk was speechless. Lance waited for him to look him in the eye before smiling slightly in a way that immediately caused them both to cry tears of happiness.

"I'm so proud of you," Hunk quietly sobbed, "oh my god, Lance, I'm so proud of you..."

Lance felt like everything was floating higher and higher, he began to feel light-headed because of how hard he was crying.

He had started it when he was young, really young. The feeling of that first time was something Lance would never forget, the relief, the adrenaline, the way it had made his head spin - it had all been too much, but at the same time it had felt so right. The numbness had slipped away, for just a minute, before he was frantically trying to bandage himself up with tear-stained cheek and an aching head. He had regretted it immediately. He did it again the next day. Hunk only noticed in college, and he would check Lance's arms almost daily. They stopped a few months ago after Lance went off anti-depressants and had quit the habit almost completely.

Sometimes he couldn't help it, though. As crazy as it sounded, it was the only way to cut off all the overbearing voices and emotions that were running him down, eating him alive. The last time he did it was because of weight gain. Since then, he hadn't had any reason to resort to that - he was completely devoted to his school work and didn't have any time to even consider it. Whenever he felt too anxious or too horrible to be by himself, Lance would just -

"I think," Lance mumbled through the tears, "I think I was replacing it w-with hugging you. I think that's w-why I did it. I'm sorry, Hunk."

"W-what?" Hunk asked, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah," Lance said, "you know, I haven't hugged someone like that since... you know. And I - I think it was enough to make me forget, like doing bad things did. It occupied all my senses at once. " He hated saying it. Bad things would suffice, and Hunk nodded in understanding, quickly realizing, though:

"Oh my god, Lance! We can, oh my god, we can go back to doing that if it makes you feel better. If it keeps you from doing that -"

"No, Hunk. You already told me exactly why we shouldn't go back to doing that..." Lance took a deep breath, wiped off the tears and said, with determination:

"I think I can get myself together, properly this time."

 

-

 

"Hey, Lance!"

"Wait, just a second..."

"Lance!"

Allura was sitting next to him in the computer lab, and while Lance did enjoy her company, she could sometimes be more of a bother than of use or help. Especially when they were doing English literature assignments.

"Please, Lance, I need to see what you wrote for section A part seven question two!" she insisted, opening up her palm in front of Lance to further pressure him into doing it. The rest of the class wasn't completely silent, thankfully, but the background noise was actually kind of helpful for Lance. Allura's constant intruding was the opposite of helpful, but Lance had been dealing with this since middle school. He was too nice back then to complain, and he couldn't just start now.

"We didn't even read the same book, Allura," Lance chuckled, trying to finish the last sentence of his answer to section B part two's question nine. Is 'empty-handed' or 'impoverished' more appropriate when referring to the lack of theme development?

"No, we didn't, but I need to see whether you took the question as how the ending of the novel affected your overall view of the book or how it affected your overall view of the story," Allura shot back, snatching the freshly printed copy of Lance's answer paper to section A from his desk. He was about to ask what the difference between the two even was, but after looking over to see Allura nose-deep into his answer paper, he decided to not bother her. Suddenly, Lance's phone lit up with a text from Hunk:

"Library in 5!! Imporant!!!"

Lance sighed, furiously pressing ctrl and S on his keyboard multiple times before logging out of his computer and slamming his books shut. What was this going to be about then? He quickly took back his answer paper from Allura when she wasn't looking and began sliding everything into his backpack as discreetly as possible, though of course, Allura noticed.

"Hey, where are you going?" she asked frantically as she watched Lance pack all of his things, "Lance? We haven't even discussed the pair work that is required for section C!"

"There's a section C?" Lance joked, smiling and waving at Allura as adorably as possible as he ran out of the class.

Rush hour had already gone by a while ago, so Lance could have just easily walked to the library instead of ran, but he knew he had to make up for the lost evening run yesterday somehow. God, what a stupid mistake that was, to miss his evening run. He would probably have to run a double tonight. He hasn't done that in weeks, even months! And all because of that stupid, gorgeous boy in the hallway.

Before he could even begin to daydream, the library doors drew close and Lance had to slow down so he wouldn't smash straight into the glass. He quietlly opened one of the two doors, heading towards yet another usual spot for Hunk and him - the bean bags in the far left corner, near the biology section. This was decided back when they still hung out with some of the less mature guys in their year, and when said guys all dropped out around six months into college, Hunk and Lance stayed. It was peaceful and quiet, as long as no new childish 19-year-olds came back there.

Hunk was sitting on one of the bean bags next to Pidge who had opted for the floor, and they were chatting about something quite intently, judging from the way they were constantly having to fight back the will to laugh. They rarely hung out, since Pidge was a year above Hunk, and their classes almost always overlapped the other's, but they were really good friends back in middle and high school. The best of friends, in fact. Lance remembers the year Hunk grew extremely close to Pidge, almost as close as Hunk and him had, and he remembers the jealousy. He could still feel the pang of it in his chest sometimes, especially when Hunk would have to cancel plans just to help Pidge with some coding or something. Now, though, Lance was just curious.

"Hey, bro," Hunk greeted and patted the bean bag chair next to him, "you're going to want to sit down for this." Lance nodded quietly with a worried expression on his face, because he hoped to whatever god is out there that it's not what he thought, he knew that smirk and he really hoped it's not -

"ANOTHER PARTY!" Pidge and Hunk almost screamed in unison, earning a few disapproving looks from the students around them, but they didn't bother to apologize, or even quiet down. They just kept screaming.

"And you're coming! It's gonna be so much fun!" Lance rolled his eyes.

"Absolutely not, Hunk."

"Oh yes you are! We're coming with you, of course, because it's time that you finally meet someone you can hug and cuddle and maybe even kiss and maybe even -"

"Okay, don't listen to him," Pidge interrupted, slapping their hand over Hunk's mouth, "yes, it's a party, but it's my birthday party! I would love it if you come, Lance."

No, Lance thought, he was absolutely definitely undeniably _not_ going to go. Parties had only proven to be one of the worst places for him, too loud and too bright and too foul-smelling, the alcohol was terrible and the people even more terrible. The last time he went to a party, a bunch of random girls had come up to him and offered him "ecstasy", which Lance interpreted as sexual favors, but later found out to be some form of drug. He refused immediately and got the hell out of there. No.

"Yeah, come on Lance, it's Pidge's birthday! They're turning 21, of course you're coming!" Hunk tried to excite Lance, but failed terribly.

"Hey, my friend Keith just let me know he can come too," Pidge noted as they checked their phone, "you know, Lance, Keith's the guy who was with me when you dropped your phone the other day and you were looking at him like you had never seen anything so beautiful befo -" Lance was already flustered, but before it could get any worse:

"Okay, okay, okay!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defeat, trying to hide his blush, "I'll go. And I wasn't looking at him like that!"

"Oh, yes you were," Pidge snickered and turned to Hunk who was already way too into this. Lance buried his face into his hands, not believing they were doing this right now. He wasn't that gorgeous, Lance tried to tell himself, even though yes he definitely was. His willingness to go to the party just increased from zero to one hundred and ten per cent.

"Oh my god, Lance, you were giving heart-eyes to Keith, the stone-cold music major?" Hunk laughed, not believing what he had just heard. All Hunk knew about the guy was that he had crazy guitar skills, wore a red jacket at all times, and sported a ridiculous mullet. However, he was excited that Lance was maybe, possibly into someone after so long of staying out of the dating slash embarrassing crushing game. And he wanted to hear everything about it.

"No I wasn't!" Lance lifted his gaze up and attempted to salvage the situation, but it was already too late.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he was looking at you like that too," Pidge pointed out and winked at Lance, "and he's the gayest guy I think I've ever met."

"What does that even _mean_?" Lance whined, not listening to the rest of Pidge's and Hunk's bickering about how they were "going to get them to get together". He soon realized he wasn't even sure himself whether he was interested in Keith like that. His name is nice though... and his face... but what does _that_ even mean? Maybe a hookup at best? But Lance wasn't really into all that, the meaningless sex. No, he liked romancing someone and then, maybe, doing things. He had only done that once, though. Lance flinched thinking about it, trying to go back to listening to his best friend's insane ideas.

"We could introduce them and like, show them the guest bedroom upstairs and let them figure out the rest!" Lance shook his head wildly, sighing. He should have known that this was all they wanted him to do - get laid. Of course. After all, it had been almost two years since - that. Maybe he really was incompetent at keeping people close to him. What would make Keith any different? He would just leave anyway.

"I'm leaving," Lance stood up and swung his backpack over his shoulder, "see you guys later." He _really_ didn't need this.

"The party's tonight, Lance!" Pidge exclaimed quickly, getting up as well to stop Lance from leaving, "I'll text you about it, okay?" They looked hopeful, Hunk looked desperate, and Lance had no other choice.

"Keith's a nice guy, I swear. You don't need to, you know, do anything, but he's lonely," Pidge explained, already texting Lance the address and time, "he could use a friend."

"I'll drive you!" Hunk promised with a genuine smile, and Pidge looked up to meet Lance's eyes one more time for confirmation.

"Alright," Lance said and nodded at both of them before walking away, trying to keep himself together. It was bad enough that he had just agreed to go to a party, and what added to it was the fact that he would have to run a double before it without any food in his system. At least he still had control over his body, his diet, his exercise routine.

But he had no control over Keith. Keith, the guy he had only just seen yesterday for a split second and was going to meet properly later today. No control over his actions or how he would react to Lance. He was unknown territory, one of the things Lance was most afraid of, and Lance wasn't sure whether he was ready to step over to the other side yet. All he knew was that this could end as badly as last time, and he was scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! I'll try to keep up with regular updates, but school is being kinda rough for me at the moment so weekly is all I can do unfortunately. Please leave comments and give me feedback, it's always helpful and nice in general! :)


End file.
